Maybe old emotions
are not like ashes,
but more like embers,
still pulsating with fire
and energy.
Once they were towering,
like loblolly pine trees
or 100 year-old oaks,
too high to scale.
Now they lie smouldering
in the hearth of my heart
cooling, dying,
but still emanating heat.
They self-ignite
on cold, rainy nights,
when in the chill
and loneliness,
I dial your number
and talk and laugh with you
until midnight.
What a wonderful description of the feelings when we call up an old friend! Great write! Peace, Aisha
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Beautiful, feelings that linger with help of a call........